


The End of the Line

by kyrieanne



Series: Trains Series [6]
Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-25
Updated: 2013-05-25
Packaged: 2017-12-12 23:46:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/817441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyrieanne/pseuds/kyrieanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Fitz is in an accident, Lizzie and Darcy come to a few realizations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End of the Line

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sixth and final installment for the 'Trains' series (TRUTH ABOUT TRAINS, MIDNIGHT TRAIN, THE HEARTLINE, CABLE CARS HALFWAY TO THE STARS, & JUXTAPOSITION OF SWITCHES). I promise this won't end sad! Since this is the end, let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

This is the story of twenty-four hours. 

***

Rebecca Trusk’s life is a series of late moments. 

She developed late. She was a gangly teenage girl with knees that knocked and a nose that she didn’t find peace with until she was in her thirties. It wasn’t until late into college - the week before graduation - that she realized she didn’t want to be an education major. But Rebecca is at heart a pragmatist so she taught fifth grade for eighteen years. It wasn’t until she was thirty-five that Rebecca realized she wanted to be a writer and another three years before she was brave enough to start. It meant a late start, but Rebecca had gotten used to that. 

She met Frank Williams at her fortieth birthday party. He came as the date of a friend and Rebecca doesn’t really remember him from that night. To her, the first time they met was in a coffee shop. He introduced himself and she was annoyed that he interrupted her. She had been revising a poem (she went through a really long, unfortunate poetry phase) and he stuck his hand in her face. He asked to sit down. Did she remember him? He had attended her party a few weeks ago. Then he did what Frank Williams always did - he smiled and talked and somehow you found yourself going along with it. At the end of the night, when the cafe finally closed and they were standing in the parking lot, he asked her out. 

“But you’re dating…” Years later she couldn’t remember the woman’s name. 

“Not since the night of your party,” he said and it stole her breath, the knowing smile he flashed when he said it. 

By the next year they were married. At forty-one, Rebecca didn’t want to start a family. She told Frank this a month before he proposed. She trembled when she did because she thought it might be a deal breaker and her late love story would come crashing down. But he tucked her against him and said, “Alright, then we’ll see the world instead.” 

And they did. For fifteen years, Rebecca was so happy she barely had time to write. If writing was the late dream of her youth; Frank Williams was the dream she missed completely. She never saw the happiness coming. It took her by surprise, like the sunset after a tornado. 

They stole weekends away to poke around the world. They rode elephants in India, climbed the Great Wall, and drank tea in Moscow. There was a summer hobnobbing in Europe and an island off of the coast of Greece where they spent every Christmas. They weren’t rich, but they were comfortable and it was just the two of them. When she wondered aloud if he wished they had tried for children, Frank pressed a kiss to her temple and called her his heart. 

Frank had a family - an older brother, Frederick, who had a wife and five-year old son named Fitz. 

“That’s a strange name for a little boy,” Rebecca teased him at her wedding. She knelt in her dress so they were eye level. Fitz solemnly handed her a dandelion that he plucked from the grassy lawn of the church and she tucked it into her bouquet. He smiled. And as easily as that they were friends. All it took was a dandelion. It remains Rebecca’s favorite thing about her nephew - Fitz Williams will be your friend as easily as dandelions grow. 

The night Frank died of a heart attack it was Fitz who skidded into the waiting room first. She sat alone in the hard plastic chairs, wringing her hands, and tried to remember what it was she did before Frank Williams. It was late at night and she couldn’t remember. Fitz knelt in front of her and threaded his hands through her’s. 

“My heart,” she trembled. 

“We’ll figure it out,” he said.

Months after Frank’s death, Fitz called her. “I think I have it figured out” he said, “I have a friend and he and his sister just lost their parents.” 

Rebecca Trusk never wanted to have her own children, but when she mets Gigi Darcy, who was all gangly arms and legs, something happened to her heart. For the first time since Frank, she felt it leap in her chest. 

The Darcy children stood in that big white house of theirs’ on the coast. Rebecca could practically hear the memories echoing through the halls. William Darcy was a strange young man; he was so serious. But his devotion to his sister was evident. Gigi curled into the circle of his arm during Rebecca’s interview. 

“I am not a parent, Mrs. Williams,” he said. “I’m only twenty.” 

“I’m going by Trusk,” Rebecca said. “It’s my maiden name. Williams hurts too much to hear.” 

“I understand.” 

“Then you should know, I’ve never been a parent,” she warned him. “I’m just a fifty-six year-old widow.” 

“Fitz thinks we can figure it out together.” 

It was the first time Rebecca saw William Darcy offer even a hint of a smile. 

And so late in life, Rebecca Trusk discovered her second family. She liked to think she and the Darcy children balanced each other out. Everything came too early for them; they had to grow up too fast. And for her everything came late. She liked to think they made a family that way. 

Rebecca gets Gigi through high school and she gets William through Gigi’s first period. And her first dance. And her first date, her first solo road trip, and the first time she gets drunk. She gets them through all of it and in return they get her through the time after Frank, that endless stretch of time. When Gigi graduated high school she almost quit. She had never needed the money; working for the Darcy’s was always about something else. But by then Rebecca discovered she was connected to them down to the sinews of her heart. They were her dream as much as Frank and Fitz were. Like all the important things in her life, they had arrived late, unexpected and wonderful. 

“Work for me part-time and write the rest,” William said. It sounded like an order. He had that way about him, Rebecca knew. The world was his to order. Someday, she thought, he would find a girl who he couldn’t order around and his whole world would tip upside down. 

She almost didn’t get them through George Wickham. After it happened, she climbed into the bed with Gigi and curled the girl into her arms the way Frank used to hold her. 

“Why didn’t he love me?” Gigi cried. 

All Rebecca knew to do was press her lips to Gigi’s temple and whisper, “My heart. You. Are. My. Heart.” 

Not all life’s lessons had reached her yet, even this late in life. She didn’t know how to repair the pieces of a broken heart. William was worse because he retreated further and further until he was twenty again. He didn’t smile and there were circles under his eyes. She ordered Fitz to get him out of San Francisco. 

“Send him with the Lees,” she said. “I’m taking Gigi to the coast for the summer. Don’t let him work himself to death.” 

Then Lizzie Bennet happened and we all know that part of the story. 

The night Fitz Williams gets into the car accident, Rebecca Trusk is sitting at William Darcy’s dining room table, writing a story, and thinking of Frank. Chicken baked in the oven and she hummed to herself. Frank would love this story. He liked love stories. It was a secret he made her keep. Rebecca wrote love stories for Frank. 

Mid-sentence, she stops and looks at the papers spilling out across the table, the meal she is making, her family, and the San Francisco skyline visible from the Darcy penthouse. It is late in her life, but Rebecca Trusk realizes in that moment she is happy. It is a second happiness. 

Then her phone rings and everything changes. 

***

“Lizzie, what are you doing here?” 

It’s Gigi who says it. Lizzie and William stumble into the emergency room, his hand holding tight onto her’s. 

“I…I live here now. In San Francisco,” she stammers. All her doubts and fears seem petty now. She turns red. Gigi and Rebecca Trusk stare at her. Only Lydia offers an understanding grimace. 

“How is Fitz?” William interrupts. 

“There’s swelling in the brain. There is nothing to do but wait. Brandon is with him in the ICU. Only one of us can be there at at time.” She explains. She raises an absent hand to her forehead and Lizzie frowns. 

“What happened to your wrist?” 

“Oh, nothing. It just got jerked around in the accident,” Gigi waves it off. The girl’s wrist is swollen and purple.

Even though they are only holding hands, Lizzie can feel William’s whole body tense up. 

“Were you in the accident too?” she looks at Lydia. 

“Yeah, the three of us were going to meet Brandon.” 

And by instinct Lizzie and William both reach for their little sisters. Lizzie pokes and prods Lydia until she is sure that her baby sister is still solid bone, ligament, and skin. She hugs her sister tight and exhales against Lydia’s neck. William does the same to Gigi. 

“Have either of you been checked out by doctors?” William’s voice is tense, stern. Lizzie recognizes it as his robot voice. It’s the tone he falls into when he is scared. 

“William, it’s Fitz we should be worried about.” Gigi pushes him away. “I’ll be fine.” 

“There is something wrong with your wrist, we’re going to see a doctor.” William snaps. He glances at Lydia, “You too.” 

And surprisingly, Lydia listens. William marches the two younger girls out of the waiting room with a glance back at Lizzie. She gives him a reassuring smile. 

“I’m going to find Brandon,” Ms. Trusk sighs. 

And Lizzie is left, alone, in the waiting room with nothing to do but slide into a plastic chair. 

*** 

“Did you and my sister finally hook up?” Lydia swings her legs as they wait for a doctor in Urgent Care. 

Lydia sits on one bed and Gigi on the other. Darcy stands between them with his arms crossed. 

“William, relax. You’re going to scare the doctor away,” Gigi rolls her eyes. 

Lydia clears her throat, “So?” 

“Lizzie and I, um, talked,” Darcy clears his throat. Talked might be an understatement. They had been ready to have sex right there in her kitchen. He recalls the way her breath shuddered against his skin when he touched her. 

“You totally did it!” Lydia shrieks. She leans across the gap in the beds to high give Gigi. “When Fitz wakes up, he owes me ten bucks. I totally called it would happen by the end of the summer.”

“Lydia, please,” Darcy strains.

“What? He’s totally going to wake-up. He’s Fitz.” 

He wishes he could share her easy optimism, but Darcy has been here before. He and Gigi lost parents to a car accident. There had been a night like this where they waited for their mother to wake up. Their father had died upon impact, but their mother lingered for a week before they decided to end life support. He wishes he could be like Lydia, but he can’t hope. He can’t bring himself to believe this is going to be alright when it hasn’t ever been before. 

He stays until the doctor comes. Lydia has bruising from the seat belt biting into her shoulder. It’ll hurt by morning, but they give her pain killers. Gigi’s wrist is badly sprained. She pales when the doctor makes the diagnosis as if finally, hours after the accident, the shock is wearing off. The diagnosis sobers her. 

But as the nurse finishes wrapping Gigi’s wrist, Darcy can’t handle it any longer. The lights in the hospital are too bright. The beeping of the machines won’t stop and he mumbles something to Lydia and his sister before escaping through the sliding doors of Urgent Care and out into the night air. 

*** 

When Darcy was a child he didn’t like the ocean. 

Every summer his parents packed the family away to their house on the coast. His father took the train into the office and Darcy always begged to go with. He liked to sit in his dad’s office with his own legal pad. When he was little he drew super heroes, but he moved onto verb declensions and sometimes even a poem, though he never showed those to anyone. But in the summers his mother held tight to his shoulders when the senior William Darcy departed for the train station. 

“You’ve got to learn to slow down, Will,” she sighed once. “Work will always be there. Other things won’t.” 

He had been thirteen when she said it, them standing on the porch as his father drove away, and to this day Darcy isn’t sure who she was saying it too - him or his father. He remembers she turned away before he could ask. And then she was gone because Gigi was dragging potting soil into the house or wearing their father’s good suit coat as a cape. It was always something with Gigi. 

But Darcy did get it. He got that he was serious and different from kids his age. He enjoyed working. Darcy liked who he was. He liked the way he saw the world. To him it was a beautiful place due considerable effort on our part. If you’re going to be a person, he thought, why not live as intentionally as possible? If he is too much: too serious, too intense, too uptight it is only because he cares. 

But it is also because he is scared. The world is a beautiful place, but it is also wide. Wide and overwhelming. This is why he did not like the ocean. It could swallow you. There was no respite. The waves hit, the tide pulls, and you spend the entire time fighting against it until it dumps you exhausted upon the beach. 

Every summer until he is thirteen, Darcy avoids the ocean. He stays in the house or on the porch. He reads and plays tennis with his mother. He sits in the kitchen as she cooks and they take turn reading Heimingway to one another. 

That is until Darcy meets Fitz Williams. 

“Dude, you need to get out more,” Fitz took one look at Darcy and jerks his head toward the beach, “Let’s go.”

They stand on the porch as their mothers talk. Fitz’s family just moved into the other house on their quiet dead end road. Darcy frowns. This kid just met him. How could he know Darcy didn’t get out much? But his mother is pushing him and saying William would love to go explore the beach and Darcy doesn’t know how to get out of it without seeming rude. Rudeness is one thing he hates more than the ocean. 

Fitz Williams that teaches Darcy how to swim. He glosses right over Darcy’s reasons for not liking the ocean with a cocky grin and a dare. 

“Race you to that buoy and back.” 

Darcy is still standing on the beach arguing to which his new friend shouts - from the water - “You’re thinking too much! Just run straight into the waves. It’s the best way to do it.” 

And that is how Fitz Williams gets William Darcy to swim in the ocean. He makes it a race until Darcy becomes so frustrated that he actually starts trying. Darcy forgets about how big the ocean was, how deep and uncertain. He doesn’t remember to be scared and he begins to enjoy the lap of water against his chest and satisfaction of moving through the current. 

Afterwards, when they collapse on the sand, Fitz grins, “You’re alright Darcy. You just need to get out more.” 

*** 

“William?” 

It is Lizzie who finds him outside the hospital. He is pacing the sidewalk and it is just the two of them in the golden circle of a street light. Everything else blinks far off and silent. 

“Any news?” 

“No,” she stands very still and tips her head, “you want to talk about it?” 

“There’s nothing to talk about.” 

“One of your best friends is in the hospital. Your sister was in the accident. It’s like…,” she stops, swallows, and tries again. “There is plenty to talk about.” 

He lifts a shoulder, “Then lets talk about why you lied to me.” 

“That’s not important right now.” 

“Well it’s what I want to talk about.” He snaps. 

“Everything is heightened right now. Let’s just wait.” 

“I don’t want to wait. With you all I’ve done is wait.” 

“What do you want from me William?” Lizzie throws out her arms. “I was too proud to ask for help. I was an idiot. But you weren’t exactly clear with your signals either. You kept saying you wanted to just be friends.” 

“I had a plan,” he mutters. 

“Yeah, well it was confusing. I mean we talked every day. You got me like no one else ever had,” Lizzie sighs, “but then you didn’t come to my graduation and you took some other woman to that party.” 

“You’re jealous of Veronica?” 

She cringes, “No, you’re purposefully misunderstanding me.” 

“Cause Veronica is just a friend. Trust me.” 

“I do trust you. I’m saying I wasn’t sure what we were so it was easy to convince myself I didn’t owe you the truth,” she tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t trust you with the truth because the truth is I’m scared.” 

She takes a few steps toward him and William can’t help but think how beautiful she is in pool of light. Her hair is the deepest shade of auburn. She is steady. Sure and strong. When she touches him, William sags against her. She wraps her arms fast around his waist and he lets himself bury his face in her hair. 

“Fitz used to tell me I think about things too much,” he says. “To compensate for being scared.” 

“It’s alright to be scared,” Lizzie holds him tighter. “I’m scared too.” 

William lifts his head and threads a hand through her hair. She lifts her smile to him and he kisses her lightly. 

“I don’t know how to do this,” he confesses. And he knows she understands he isn’t just talking about Fitz. 

“What would Fitz tell you to do?” 

Darcy thinks of that day when he swam in the ocean. “Just run toward it and see what happens.” 

***

They are all in the waiting room when Brandon comes down from ICU.

“Still no change,” he collapses in the plastic chair between Lydia and Gigi. He rubs both hands over his eyes, “I just needed to step out for a second. Sitting there looking at him like that…I needed a break.” 

“I’ll go,” Lizzie offers, “I’ll go sit with him for a while.” 

She has to wear a paper gown over her clothes and when she hears the mechanical ICU doors whoosh shut behind her, Lizzie trembles. She sinks into the empty chair next to Fitz’s bed. He looks so peaceful, as if he simply fell asleep. She can almost hear him when he wakes up. 

“Hey Lizzie B, how are things going? I’m starving.” 

She takes Fitz’s hand in her own and squeezes, “You need to wake up cause I’ve got to tell you something. All your matchmaking finally paid off. ” 

The only response is the steady beep of monitors. 

“My dad is obsessed with model trains,” she says, “Have I ever told you that? He has this thing he likes to tell me, the truth about trains?” She whispers. “It’s all about the connections. He says Lizzie, life is like a train. It doesn’t move forward unless you make the right connections. But when everything comes together it sure does make for a great ride.” 

*** 

“What are you doing?” 

Gigi took Brandon to the cafeteria for food. It’s just Ms. Trusk, Darcy, and Lydia in the waiting room now. Lizzie is still sitting with Fitz. The sun peaks the horizon, but inside the hospital it feels like time is not happening. Moments pass, but Darcy couldn’t put a name to them. He has been watching Lydia watch Rebecca Trusk work for a while now. It’s easier than recalling the last time he sat in a hospital waiting room like this. 

The older woman is spread out over a manuscript she pulled from her purse. It’s a familiar, comforting sight - this woman, Fitz’s aunt, and her papers. Darcy can tell its an old draft from the way the edges of the paper curl. 

“I’m writing,” Ms. Trusk tells Lydia. 

“I thought you were a housekeeper.” 

“Ms. Trusk is a writer,” Darcy corrects. “Who happens to also be our keeper.” 

This draws a slow smile from the older woman. He smiles back. Years ago Fitz told him to take a chance on this woman. Together, they would figure it out, he said, and Fitz had been right. They had figured it out. 

“If you’re a writer,” Lydia chews on her lip, “do you think you could look at something for me? It’s a script for this web series Darcy and I working on.” 

She pulls her own wrinkled pages out of her bag, “My sister made some notes, but I’m not sure what a jump cut is.” 

Rebecca Trusk pats the chair next to her, “Let’s figure it out then.” 

***

“Lizzie, even if Fitz is fine he’s going to need time. Time to recover,” William says sometime in the early hours of morning. Lizzie cuddles into him. She is sleepy. The waiting room is deserted and he is keeping her company now that Lydia took over sitting with Fitz. “We could use help. It’d be a temporary job, but if you wanted to come on at Pemberley Digital there is a need.” 

Lizzie rubs a thumb across his wrist, “I don’t want to be the girl who dates the boss,” she pauses, “But I have to be practical. Can I think about it?” 

“Yes, of course,” he swallows, “I assume this means you’re not interested in Pemberley Digital investing in Three Sisters Studios?” 

She bites her lip, “I don’t know. I mean its all really fast and I don’t want the money to get in the way of this,” she gestures between her and him. “You’re too important to me.” 

A smile gestures across his face, “What about your company?” 

“That’s still important, but I don’t see how solving one problem only to create new ones is a solution.” 

“There may not be any problems. We make good partners. Look at what we’ve done with Domino.” 

“We make good partners, but if you invest in Three Sisters Studios you’d be my investor. I’d have to report to you the same way you do to Pemberley’s board.” 

“I think we can work out a better relationship than that,” he kisses her brow. “I could be a silent investor.” 

“How is that any different than you giving me money?” 

“I would be investing in Three Sisters Studios because I believe in you. I wouldn’t do it if I thought it wasn’t a sound investment. If you were trying to open a surf shop in Juneau, Alaska I wouldn’t be offering.” 

“How is this relationship going to work if you don’t support my surf shop dream?” She can feel his smile in the way his chest expands against her back. She snuggles in tighter. “Can I think about it?” she trails her fingers up the length of his forearms, “Let’s just get through this first.” 

“Alright,” he says, “now sleep.” 

The words trip off her lips as she falls asleep. “I just want to make beautiful things.” 

*** 

It’s really so simple, Darcy can’t believe he didn’t make the connection before. He slips out of the hospital while Lizzie is sleeping. Gigi is sitting with Fitz now and everyone else is draped over chairs in the waiting room. In the parking lot, Darcy makes a phone call. 

“Hey, I’m going to forward you something and I want you to take a look at it.” 

***

Charlotte calls Lizzie at 9:10 a.m..

“Hot damn,” her best friend drawls, “that boy is hot. Good job.” 

“Who?” 

“Your George Knightley.” 

“Oh,” Lizzie says and she realizes Charlotte is not talking about William. She is talking about Crispin. “Wait, how did you see Crispin as George Knightley?” 

“The Education of Emma Woodhouse. Domino just uploaded the first episode and it is good Lizzie. Funny. Endearing. Really good.” 

“Oh god,” Lizzie breathes, “I totally forgot about the videos.” 

*** 

Lizzie’s inbox is brimming when she gets to it Her twitter feed is just a mess of excitement from fans of her own videos. 

@thelizziebennet OMG this is amazing… I can’t wait for more! 

@thelizziebennet I’m hooked. Let’s do this! 

@thelizziebennet Emma is adorable. I want to be friends with her. 

@thelizziebennet SO HOTTTTTTTTTTTT! 

@thelizziebennet I have a proposition for you. Call me. 

The last one is from Caroline. It throws her. Lizzie almost ignores it, but she just can’t handle the Internet right now. It feels wrong to be excited, trolling Tumblr for reactions, when Fitz is upstairs. Lizzie just can’t deal with that.

Caroline picks up on the first ring. 

“Lizzie Bennet.” 

“Hey, Caroline.” 

“I heard you finally landed Darcy.” 

“Okay, if this is about you being jealous I really don’t have time,” Lizzie rubs a temple. 

Lizzie can practically hear Caroline flip her hair. “Don’t be petty Lizzie. I have a business proposition for you.” 

“You do?” 

“Yes. I want to invest in Three Sister Studios.” 

Lizzie blinks. It’s all she can muster. Caroline repeats herself. 

After a moment the other woman sighs, “If we’re going to be partners then we’re going to have to work on your professionalism. When someone offers to fund your dreams you say something.” 

“But why?” 

“Because I saw your proposal and I think it will be a good fit. You want to make intelligent, sophisticated entertainment and I believe in beautiful things. We could be great together.” 

“But I’m with William.” 

“Why do I care about that?” 

“Because…you want him,” Lizzie stumbles. “It’s why you never liked me.” 

“Lizzie, I didn’t like you because I didn’t think your sister was right for my brother,” Caroline pauses. “But Jane is actually very good for Bing. I can admit when I was wrong.” 

“And William?” 

“William isn’t my type.”

“But you’re rich and beautiful. He’s rich and handsome. Your families are friends. You run in the same circles.” Lizzie can hear herself. Unlike her, William would always be on even ground with Caroline. There is a doubt, she realizes, in the back of her mind that they won’t be able to overcome the differences. That she has good reason to be scared. That she would always wonder if all of her accomplishments were because of William and his money. “If William isn’t your type, then who is?” 

“Have you met Veronica?” 

“I’ve heard about her.” 

“She’s my type and I’m her’s,” When Lizzie is too dumbfounded to speak for the second time in the span of minutes that the eye roll Caroline gives practically shouts through the phone. She says, “Lizzie, I’m a lesbian. I’m with Veronica.” 

“But…but…but she went with William to that swanky gala. Gigi said he always takes Veronica.” 

“She hasn’t come out to her parents yet,” Caroline says. “Darcy takes her to that stuff as a way to help her keep up appearances until she is ready to tell them. Having her on his arm makes all that small talk Darcy hates easier. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement until you came along, but what can we do? The heart wants what the heart wants. ” 

“He never told me that.” Lizzie stammers. 

“That’s cause it wasn’t his secret to share,” Caroline says. “Now are you going to be an idiot and turn down my money?” 

“Did William put you up to this?” 

“Why do you have such a hard time trusting him?” Caroline says. “After everything he’s done to support you, why can’t you see the man he is?” 

“I…I don’t know.” 

“Well, for your information he put me up to nothing. He forwarded me a rough draft of the business plan you wrote for your thesis and suggested I read it. It’s rough, but I can work with it. I wasn’t actively looking for a new investment, but Catherine is always talking about the importance of new media so I let Darcy know last week to send anything my way that might be a good fit. Your ideas aren’t exactly in line with the market, but that is why I’m interested. It drives me crazy the Internet is filled with such pedestrian taste. I mean, cat videos? No, I want to create an alternative and then I saw your first Domino video this morning and I knew you are the person to help me do that.” 

And Lizzie believes Caroline. No one is going to talk Caroline into doing anything she didn’t want to do. He may have opened a door, but it was Lizzie’s ideas, her talent, that allowed her to walk through it. And Caroline as a partner…it wasn’t the most obvious idea, but now that Lizzie thinks about it she can see how it might just work. 

Lizzie exhales, “Okay, what are your terms?” 

She can hear the smile in Caroline’s voice, “Now that’s more like it.” 

*** 

It’s the day that stretches on forever. While the night felt like an ellipses, the morning and afternoon are a long run sentence that just won’t end. Lizzie is hunched over her laptop, fielding the social media reaction as their first Domino video gets shared around the Internet. She talks to Crispin who seems overwhelmed by the sudden influx of ‘fangirls.’ 

“He doesn’t quite understand Twitter,” she tells Darcy and bites back a smile. “I tried to warn him, but apparently there was some semi-scandalous pictures of him floating around and they’ve already been GIF’d on Tumblr. He’s a bit freaked out.” 

“This is why I prefer to stay out of pictures. You never know what might end up on the Internet,” he says. 

“But you were in my videos.” 

“That’s different.” 

“How?”

“They were for you.” 

Lizzie kisses him on the cheek, “You’re sweet.” 

But Darcy doesn’t feel sweet. He feels aggravated. The longer he spends in the hospital the more his nerves fray. He can’t make himself go up to see Fitz. It just hurts too much and for that Darcy feels guilty. It had been years since that night. This is Fitz. Not his parents. This time it would be different. It had to be. 

Even with Lizzie sitting next to him in the waiting room, Darcy struggles to maintain an outward appearance of calm. He can’t lose it here, not when so many people are counting on him. 

“I’m going to take a walk,” he states as he stands up. 

“Oh, do you want me to come with you?” 

“No. Caroline said she was going to email you a contract. You should stay here and read that. I’ll be fine.” 

And then he escapes, heading for the nearest exit. His chest feels like it is going to explode. The pressure has built up and if he doesn’t get outside he is afraid he might have a panic attack. 

“William.” 

It’s Ms. Trusk. He must be pale because she frowns. “Come on,” she tugs on his arm, “There is a coffee cart in the courtyard this way. Let’s walk.” 

She doesn’t say anything until they have their coffee. She even pays. Darcy is so distracted he doesn’t even notice until the cashier hands her change. He gets out his wallet. 

“Put it away,” she orders. “We’re going to pretend you’re not William Darcy for a moment and you’re going to let me buy you coffee and give you a little advice like an aunt would.” 

It is late afternoon and the sky has started to dim, just barley, and Darcy follows Ms. Trusk along the paved paths in the hospital courtyard. It’s not a large circuit, but getting somewhere isn’t really the point. 

“You know Fitz was the first person at the hospital the night my Frank died.” 

“He was with me when they called about my parents. I don’t even remember what we were doing.” 

“He’ll pull through,” she says it quietly. “He has too.” 

“Nothing is a sure thing.” 

“This isn’t the end of the line for him or you.” 

“I’m not the one in a coma.” 

“In some ways you have been for the last few years though. Working all the time. Not dating. Being an overbearing brother to your sister just so you don’t lose her too. It was Lizzie Bennet who woke you up, but its still hard.” 

Darcy stuffs his hands in his jean pockets. It is hard. 

“I’ve always struggled to express myself,” he says. “Even before my parents died. I was always so serious. So different from most people.” 

“Lizzie helps you. I’ve seen that when you two are together.” 

“But what if its too late? What if this is just the way I am? She deserves someone who is her equal in that regard.” 

Ms. Trusk hooks her arm through his and squeezes him to her side, “Trust me William, the best things arrive late. ” 

*** 

“William, where are we going?” Lizzie says, breathless. 

He tugs her up the last flight of stairs.

“I want to show you something.” 

“Where are we going?” 

But William opens the single metal door at the top of the stairs and beckons Lizzie to walk through it. She steps onto the roof of the hospital. Gravel crunches under feet. William is right behind her and pulls her to the edge. He stops a few feet shy of the drop and wraps his arms around her waist from the behind. 

It is dinner time and the sun is setting, spilling gold and red and orange across the bay. The city is spread out before them. Cars line the streets, eager to get home to their families, and the buildings stand tall and proud. 

Lizzie remembers how she felt when she first got here weeks ago. This was the beginning of something. That San Francisco was where she belonged. She remembers that is why she got on a train in the first place - to see what came next, to see if William Darcy was part of her future. Now she is wrapped up in him. He turns her in his arms and strokes her cheek with his thumb. 

“When the accident happened we spent ten days in the hospital. My mom didn’t pass right away. I lived here. It was the longest ten days of my life. I was half hope, half agony. I wanted it to be over with, either way, and I felt terrible for wishing that because it meant part of me wished she was dead.” 

Lizzie hooks her arms around him and pulls herself as close as she can get. “William, you were in pain. You all were.” 

“I didn’t bring you up here to make us both sad,” he smiles. “I wanted to show you this place because when that happened this is where I would come. Up here I could just stare out at the city and the water and for a little while the pain and guilt went away. I even forgot about Gigi and the company. I could just be William Darcy up here.” 

“It’s beautiful.” 

“So are you.” 

“Will.” 

“Lizzie Bennet, I love you.” 

It catches her off guard, his admission. She trembles. 

He looks at her with a steady gaze. “I just needed to tell you that. I needed to say it because -,” 

But she cuts him off with a kiss. She has to leap a little to catch his mouth, but he holds her steady. He has always held her steady, she thinks. She pours into that kiss I am sorry and I trust you. She winds her arms around him and shivers when he kisses her back. They wind themselves together in the dying orange light of the longest day either of them have known in a very long time. William picks her feet off the ground and Lizzie can’t help but break the kiss and laugh. 

“I love you too,” she says. The wind has mussed his hair and she smoothes it down with her fingers, “I really like saying that.” 

“I do too.” 

She sighs into him, “I love you, William Darcy, exactly as you are.” 

“And I love you for everything you are and ever will be.”

“Aren’t we such idiots?” She grins. 

“The best kind of idiots.” 

*** 

When William Darcy goes to sit next to the bedside of Fitz Williams he is not scared. It is hard, but he knows with the hard things the best choice is to run straight at them, let the waves hit you in the shins, and keep on going. He can practically hear Fitz egging him on from the water. 

“So I’ve got to tell you,” Darcy grins to his friend, “I got the girl.” 

Though no one believes him, when Fitz wakes up a few hours later and after the drugs have worn off he’ll swear he remembers Darcy telling him that. Everyone is skeptical, but there is no other way to explain why the first thing Fitz says after nearly dying is, “So who is the best wingman ever?!” 

*** 

Rebecca Trusk writes down the love story for Frank because Frank loved love stories when he was alive.

She writes it down because it is a good story, one of pride and prejudice. One of late starts and connections. 

Lizzie’s videos help her get the first part right and over the years Rebecca manages to hear the story retold enough to fill in the pieces to the second half, the bits she got to witness first hand. When Lizzie tells her about her father’s obsession with trains, Rebecca knows exactly how to begin. 

_It is a truth universally acknowledged…_


End file.
